She turned to the relentless Purpose which was hurrying her
to her ruin, and cried to it with the daring of her despair--Drive me
on!
For days and days together she had bent her mind on the one object which
occupied it since she had received the lawyer's letter. For days
and days together she had toiled to meet the first necessity of her
position--to find a means of discovering the Secret Trust. There was no
hope, this time, of assistance from Captain Wragge. Long practice had
made the old militia-man an adept in the art of vanishing. The plow of
the moral agriculturist left no furrows--not a trace of him was to be
found! Mr. Loscombe was too cautious to commit himself to an active
course of any kind; he passively maintained his opinions and left the
rest to his client---he desired to know nothing until the Trust was
placed in his hands. Magdalen's interests were now in Magdalen's own
sole care. Risk or no risk, what she did next she must do by herself.
The prospect had not daunted her. Alone she had calculated the chances
that might be tried. Alone she was now determined to make the attempt.
"The time has come," she said to herself, as she sat over the fire.
Pages:
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991